Thursday, March 15, 2007

and the walls came crumbling down...

to add to my recent headcold-induced misery, the girl with a one-track mind in the new yorker.

many of you remember my rants regarding her blog: her raging virginity, her hilarious obsession with something she calls "man-cleavage", and a post that was like bad blow jobs 101 (only she didn't know they were bad). british sexperts (other than being a total oxymoron) are mines of entertainment for the sassy american lass.

no, we get it. a british woman has a sex drive. amazing, right? maybe that's a big deal over in the UK, but here? seriously. so what, we american broads have them too (if you are ignoring the wave of 'i'd rather eat chocolate' bullshit). we are far less lousy in bed, much more elegant in heels, and our voices do not grate against the ear like rusty ...well, graters.we also lack that weird jaw tension they seem to have in common with martial arts experts...

the truth of the matter is: she is a tromping clydesdale of a lady who doesn't even get laid that often. she may have a one-track mind, but her blog has drawn out topics of charities, 'newfound fame', giving bad blowjob advice to a girl in public, some lame "i heart newyork" poetry, and obnoxious "i am a british feminist" chatter, for months and months.

the only tail she's had in awhile is this exceptionally sad guy she touts as being an intellectual lover. basically, he reads philosophy in bed and meditates after sex. ha ha. is anyone's first-year-poli-sci senses tingling?

oh, and then there are the topics that barely even relate to the category of 'sex' but still, somehow, are supposed to intrigue us. for example, a massage she found arousing (given by a lady). seriously, rhianna and i were waiting for her to post something like "so today i went horseback riding..." or "i sat down on a stool in a pub with very loud bass..."

maybe if she were less mouthy about herself, a little better educated, and honestly a bit more atractive...well she'd have more to write about than talking dirty with her grandmother or something. she needs to be married already, and i think she knows it.

the new yorker. good grief. i loved that magazine. i loved that magazine and she has tainted it with her, "i'm a progressive, liberal woman who wants to speak openly" business. she is not progressive, nor liberal. and because of her level of conservativism and shoddy sexpert advice... i just hadn't dreamed that her novel (with hideous underpants/hideous type cover) would crawl overseas, let alone nudge its way into a magazine i actually happen(ed?) to enjoy.

i am a girl who holds her grudges and this may seriously give me pause at the magazine rack.


Blogger mr. john fury said...

Margolis has unruly chesnut-colored hair, a forthright manner, and mixed feelings about the whole experience

sounds like my reaction after reading that article.

awful. boycott the new yorker.

12:27 PM  
Blogger kaylen said...

here here

12:43 PM  

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